Wednesday, August 31, 2016

the end of summer party

bring meat and side dishes
to the party,
she says in her phone invite.
oh, and whatever you're drinking.
what about plates,
silverware and ice, I ask,
sarcastically, to which
she says. yes. of course.
oh and charcoal, if you don't mind.
and bug spray,
the yard is full of mosquitoes.
oh, and if you would be a dear,
pick up a few pounds
of cooked shrimp, peeled
and deveined, not frozen,
in a bowl.
look forward to seeing you there.

1 comment:

Unknown said...

This is your annual late August poem; maybe some new friends are needed